


Backwash

by SunflowerSpectre



Series: Works of 2020 [4]
Category: Black Panther (2018), Captain America - All Media Types, Marvel Cinematic Universe, The Avengers (Marvel Movies), The Avengers (Marvel) - All Media Types
Genre: ABO, Alpha/Beta/Omega Dynamics, Alpha/Omega, F/M, Knotting, Masturbation, Non-Traditional Alpha/Beta/Omega Dynamics, References to Knotting, Sex, Vaginal Sex
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-03-05
Updated: 2020-03-17
Packaged: 2021-02-28 21:21:51
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 4
Words: 22,023
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23023936
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/SunflowerSpectre/pseuds/SunflowerSpectre
Summary: Sequel to The BackwatersFive years after the Backwaters Incident, a reformed Bucky comes back to Shuri with the hopes that they can turn over a new leaf and start something new together.
Relationships: Bucky/Shuri, James "Bucky" Barnes/Shuri
Series: Works of 2020 [4]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1611430
Comments: 6
Kudos: 30





	1. Morning Sunshine

**Author's Note:**

  * Inspired by [The Backwaters](https://archiveofourown.org/works/22386667) by [SunflowerSpectre](https://archiveofourown.org/users/SunflowerSpectre/pseuds/SunflowerSpectre). 



> This is a sequel to The Backwaters
> 
> This is a gift to someone who requested this. This chapter contains explicit smut. This story as a whole will contain more smut than The Backwaters.

Warm morning light beats in through the cracks of the dark curtains. The beam is a direct hit on Shuri’s face, lighting it up in a way that she’s not ready for yet. Her eyes crease together tightly. She stirs, trying to move away from it. Her body feels heavy, hard to move, as if she’s pinned down. 

She shifts when the aching in her back begins. She rolls her shoulders and stretches her legs out with a wiggle of her toes. Her yawn makes her ears crackle and pop as she begins to become one with the day, waking up with a steady, slow pace. She’s barely lucid, half-away as she blinks her eyes into focus as she gets adjusting the slim beam of morning light illuminating the room.

A thick, manly arm with tanned skin and a thin layer of hair adorning toned muscles stretch against her bare skin, tickling her sides lightly before hugging her tightly, pinning her close to him. She can feel the hairs of his beginning stubble itch against her back as he buries his face in the back of her neck. Soft lips trickle kisses along her skin and she leans into him, wiggling against him to feel more of him. Her rear end pushes against his groin and she can feel him make a deep rumble in his chest as a response, the arm around her tightening.

She has a lazy smile, enjoying the way she can feel him get hard, the head of his cock starting to press against her rear. She grinds against him, shamelessly and teasingly as his hand starts to wander against her skin. His fingertips trail lightly against the soft skin of her stomach, stopping to press his palm at the ball of her tummy briefly. The bump of her stomach is small, but is slowly starting to become more apparent. It fits perfectly against his palm and her hand goes over his in a soft gesture full of understanding and love. She feels like she’s on cloud nine, in the middle of a dream that she never wants to wake up from. Sometimes, on the days that her hormones are even and when she’s blissful and happy, she swears that she can just  _ feel  _ the pregnancy. Feel someone growing inside of her - someone who will grow up to be loved and wanted. 

They haven’t decided on names yet - she refuses to let him name them after anyone from his family that she doesn’t know directly or love. But she thinks that until they know the gender, she shouldn’t be set on any given name. She knows that Nat has already begun a betting ring at SHIELD about the baby’s gender - she knows Fury has the biggest bet in the pool on girl, while Coulson has the second largest amount on boy.

But boy or girl, she wants them. She wants to hold them, connect with them. Count their wiggly toes and wrestle them into cute one-pieces. When she presses her hand on her belly, she can feel them and she feels  _ ready. _

She wiggles out of her daydreams as her arousal stirs, letting out a groan when one of the kisses against her neck turns into a light bite as he starts to suck at her skin to mark her. She writhes against him as his hand ventures higher up until his fingertips brush against the underside of her breasts. There’s no hesitation, just a question that she answers by guiding his hand to cup her breast fully. He moans against her skin, sending shivers down her spine at his breath. 

The tips of his fingers scratch lightly at her nipples and she moans at the sensation it sends all over her body. She can feel herself starting to get wetter,  _ warmer _ , as her body prepares itself for him. She  _ wants _ him.  _ Oh fuck, does she want him. _ She doesn’t have her heat, not fully, with her stomach already rounding out with the beginning of a child. But that doesn’t stop them - they may reach some of the best highs during his rut or her heat, but sex is something that is always an option.

The teasing on her nipples turns into light tugging, twisting, and flicking as he rubs them in between his fingers. He alternates between harder tugs and soft rubbing, easing her in between the tugs in a way that drives her crazy.

Their lack of clothes, partly due to their nightly activities and partly due to it being so warm that is starting to get too hot for her to sleep too heavily clothed, makes it easier. More enticing. More thrilling. She can feel the precum at the tip of his cock as it presses against her. His other arm slithers in beneath her to reach for her other breast, giving it the attention it needs, as his more free arm trails back down. 

She wonders just how much longer he’ll be able to keep this up, having no doubts that the arm trapped beneath her - even as it continues to flick and tease her nipples - is going numb. She tries to take her body weight off of it as much as she can, but that gets harder and harder as the fingertips from his other hand grazes her crotch. 

He barely has to touch her to feel how wet she is and moans at the way he slowly traces along her opening. 

“Please,” the word falls from her lips with a breathy exhale, “ _ Please.” _

She doesn’t always enjoy begging - the idea of it, anyway - but the circumstances this time around require it as the desperate need for friction grows. She cries out as his fingers slowly slide into her, playing in her pussy as he doesn’t dig them in nearly as deep as he can. He gives her a more rough bite at the crook of her neck before he plunges his fingers deeper into her as she rocks her hips into his palm.

Despite his length, she doubts that they’ll be able to get much further in their current position, but moving to correct it is hard. She wants more - she wants him, all of him. She wants to feel him inside of her, but she can’t bring herself to tear her core away from his fingers. She enjoys it too much - riding his palm as she writhes against him, bucking her hips down on his fingers. He adds a third finger, briefly as it is, to tease her and stretch her wet pussy as he gently scissors his fingers. 

“Are you ready for me, doll?”

His voice is husky and soft, breathing into her ear like a whispered confession. She can’t seem to find her words, the breath from her lungs being pushed out of her too fast and quick. She pants as his fingers pick up the face, going faster and harder, in and out of her pussy like a drill. 

She can feel herself reaching her high, getting closer and closer to the top of the mountain as the sensation builds in her core. All the heat goes to her core and her face, her cheeks flushing as she tries to do her best to just even out her breathing. 

_ “ _ Cum for me,” he whispers, placing a soft kiss behind her ear, “Cum against my fingers, sweetheart, then you can cum around my cock like a good girl.”

The demand sends her reeling, her walls tightening against his fingers as she lightly crosses her legs, squeezing his arm in the process as she rides out past the finish line. She moans as he pulls away from her, his fingers sliding out with ease. He adjusts them, moving himself to be on top of her as she spreads herself out beneath him. Their eyes meet when he sucks her coating off his fingers, making her shiver as a tingling sensation shoots down her spine and right to her core.

She glances down to his crotch. No matter how often she sees it, she loves taking it all in. Her tongue darts out against her lips before her bottom lip gets caught on her teeth, her chest heaving as she looks at the length before her. His cock is the biggest she’s seen - and it’s not as if she hasn’t seen her fair share. But nothing compares to his length and girth, the way it throbs and how the precum glistens against the head.  _ Oh bloody hell. _

She leans back for him, giving him a good view of her bare body and the way her entrance glistens for him. He mumbles a few curses and praises before he presses the tip of his cock against her heat. She groans as he pushes it inside of her briefly before pulling it back out, running it along her folds. She squirms and she can tell by the look on his face that he enjoys it. Her hips buckle, raising to get his cock inside of her. Her hand darts down to squeeze his length and he throws his back with a groan as she leads it to her entrance before she presses herself against him. 

He begins to move, slowly, at first. His hands pressing against her breasts as he leans into her, making languid, hard thrusts. Each one leaves him balls deep inside of her, making her toes curl as her thighs wrap around his waist. He takes advantage of the position of his hands. He squeezes both of her breasts before he leans down to take one into his mouth, licking around it in a way that almost makes her scream. His mouth releases from her nipple with a wet pop. He continues to massage her breasts as he whispers to her softly, praising her for being so good, encouraging her to let it all go, be as loud as she wants.

“That’s it, darling, no need to hold back…  _ I want to hear what I do to you. I want to hear how much you’re mine.” _

She does not hold back her scream this time, crying out loudly as he adjusts his hips, hitting her walls perfectly as his cock hits the perfect spot inside of her. Her thighs squeeze around him, causing him to groan and curse as his pace begins to pick up. Each of his thrusts hit that perfect spot inside of her. He pulls out of her almost completely before he shoves himself back in, hitting against her g spot with each hard thrust.

Her breasts begin to bounce with the amount of force that he uses - yet, she notes the way that he is still being careful, never putting too much weight on her or giving her more than she can take at a time. Her hips buckle against him, raising up to meet him each time that he enters her, desperate for more. She can feel the way that his balls hit against her as she takes in his length down to its base. She wraps her arms around his neck, bringing him closer to her for a sloppy, heated kiss.

  
Their faces are inches away from each other when they break apart from the kiss, her forehead pressed against his, never leaving his eyes as she pants and moans for air. 

_ “Please,” _ she pouts, her words desperate, slurred and soft. She continues, just as soft as she approaches her second high, her walls tightening against his length,  _ “Please, alpha.” _

He growls, the low rumble making his cock twitch inside of her as his thrusts become more desperate and sloppy. He thrusts into her quickly and hard, never quite taking himself fully out of her this time as her cunt tightens around him. 

She can feel him getting bigger, feel the beginning of his knot, and despite already carrying their child, she still wants to feel him inside of her.

“ _ Bucky,” _ she cries out his name when his thrusts become more sloppy, but hard and fast, hitting her deeply and quickly. 

He shoves her down onto him as she presses against him, her swollen pussy quivering around his shaft as she cums around him. She can feel the swollen of his knot inside of her, filling her up with his seed as releases a shaky breath against her skin.

He stays inside of her for a little longer, the both of them collapsing as they try to catch their breath. It takes a moment before they’re both relaxed enough for him to slip out of her, easing out slowly with long, drawn out groans.

Despite the mess they’ve made, neither of them make any effort to go clean it up - not yet. Bucky turns to lay beside her and without provocation, Shuri is right there with her head against his chest. His arm falls around her, holding her there as she breathes in and out slowly, her heart pounding against her chest. 

She closes her eyes, her mind drifting. Against her better judgement - the need to get up and get ready for the day, to get things done, to not let the day go to waste - she finds herself slowly falling back to sleep, her back warm from the sun beaming in from their curtains. The warmth only encourages her, cradling her like a cat sunbathing in the grass.

She never thought this is where she would be at this point in her life. A part of her imagined that she’d still be with SHIELD, maybe not as a field agent, but still be somewhere in the organization. Maybe even steal Fury’s job - if that was possible for an omega, but SHIELD has always been progressive enough that she always thought that it was possible. 

The other part of her - the part that still makes her go into heat, the part that purrs under Bucky’s fingertips, the part that begged for her to find a mate until it’s too late, the part that whispers  _ alpha _ when she snuggles close to him- imagined that she’d be married by now, with a few kids, maybe a little white fence. She got one out of the three, but even the omega part of herself didn’t see herself with  _ him. _

  
Her eyes lazily peek open to glance up at him. His messy hair frames his face perfectly and despite the sun that gently touches his cheeks, his eyes are closed. His thick, dark and lush eyelashes are just long enough to brush against the top of his cheekbones. She can feel the soft rise and fall of his chest as he lets the exhaustion take over. 

He looks so different than he did back then - all in very good ways. His features are softer, more relaxed. His lips are plump, kissable. He looks ten years younger, like all the anger that he had pent up in his system, the anger that aged him, changed him into what he was back then, is gone. She can see who the man is that was behind the monster and as she looks at him now, she can’t even see any part of that monster remaining. 

There are no traces left of the man she arrested -  _ what is it now? Six years ago? -  _ he’s a changed man.  _ Still has his stubbornness though, _ Shuri thinks with a smile as she curls against him. But his stubbornness didn’t mean much, not really, when as tamed as she is now, she still has that fire to her that will always match him. Alpha or no, this is her choice and it always will be.

But sometimes she wonders just how she came about this choice - how this all came around, how they’ve both changed enough to be where they are now.

* * *

**_One Year Earlier | Five Years After The Backwater Incident_ **

Shuri is absolutely  _ livid _ . Her face is slightly flushed despite the way she maintains her best poker face. Even as she walks through the halls of the hover carrier, her legs are pressed tightly together as she tries not to look at anyone for any longer than necessary. Most of the agents part to make way for her, avoiding her as much as they possibly can because they don’t have to look at her for them to know what is happening.

While a majority of agents are omegas and close to about seventy-five percent of all SHIELD agents are on represents, they can all smell her. She can tell exactly who is still in tact from who lingers too long on her form. The ones that make too much fuss - well, agent or no, she makes it very clear that even as unclaimed omega, she very much has more power over them and a few well placed kicks keeps everyone in their place. She does not give that easily and she refuses to just give in to anyone that thinks that they have any right to her just because her body  _ craves _ someone.

Considering the way that the looks and hushed whispers are dying down, word must have gotten around that she is fully prepared to take down anyone who so much as looks at her the wrong way. All of her self control goes to maintaining her heat in a way that doesn’t affect her rational decisions or her work, which leaves no self control leftover for her temper or patience. 

The warmth continues to grow between her legs and no matter how much she wants to take her stupid time off to take care of it herself, she dragged herself to work as a way to distract herself from it. A plan that’s worked for her in the past, but as the days of her heat reach its peak, she finds herself struggling.

She hates this. She doesn’t know if it’s from getting older or from needing a new, fresh distraction, but her routine of working through it just isn’t doing much to help her lately. It used to work so well. She would take her represents, she would come to work and be somewhat normal, go home to take care of herself, rinse and repeat for the next few years. 

She already took her represents. She took care of herself this morning too, just to be safe, but it seems like she’s either grown more of a tolerance to the represents or her age has made her heat come back with a vengeance that is hard to ignore.  _ Bloody hell.  _ She stops in her walk to eye the women’s bathroom, debating on the pros and cons for a moment before deciding that SHIELD likely has cameras even in there - despite their claims to the otherwise. 

Besides, she can’t risk relieving herself at work anyway. Even though it is safer on the hover carrier than it is on the streets, there are still a few agents that may not be able to contain themselves if they catch the scent of her relief. 

“Agent Shuri,” a familiar voice rings. 

Shuri turns to see Coulson standing at a distance, hand covering his mouth and nose. She makes a face at him, but he doesn’t lower his hand. 

“Fury wants you.”

He’s gone before she can even interrogate him as to why Fury’s interested in her this time. With a huff, she makes her way to Fury’s office to find him sitting in his chair, waiting for her. 

“Do you know why I called you in?”

His voice rings out with a firm, demanding tone. It makes her quiver, her heat reacting to the voice of an alpha in a way that she really wants to deny. Thinking of gross things helps calm her down, enough for her to maintain her calm, poker face as she sits down across from him, crossing her legs tightly.

“No, but I’m sure you’re about to tell me.”

He growls at her and she decides that she must’ve caught him on a worse day than usual, closing her mouth with thin lips as she decides to limit her smart comments - for now. 

“You know exactly why,” Fury’s one eye narrows at her, “And I can’t have an unclaimed omega in heat on my carrier, not unless you’ve changed your mind. If you haven’t, then I suggest you get out of here and go on a vacation far away from everyone else before someone else tries to get to force that decision for you.”

She opens her mouth to object, but he cuts her off. He scoffs, waving whatever argument she was going to make off.

“I know - you can take care of yourself. If you couldn’t, you wouldn’t even be here in the first place. But for fuck’s sake, I just can’t have anyone slacking off on their work or thinking with their dicks so much that fights break out. I will gladly make your vacation a completely paid one if you leave willingly and leave  _ now.” _

She can’t argue with that - he doesn’t leave her any room to. Despite the heat between her legs - the idea of having SHIELD pay for her vacation is too good of an offer to turn down. 

_ Besides, _ she huffs, leaving the office with a stern nod, letting him know that she will send him the bill,  _ maybe a vacation far away from everyone else isn’t a bad idea. _

* * *

She keeps the people who know where she is to a minimum. She gives Wanda and Nat her goodbyes, both who hug her and show their sympathy. Nat gives her a short talk to, something about not letting work run her dry, to be human, and that it’s okay to just let it all go to be an omega, a woman, or whatever else she wants to be that isn’t an agent. Something about her getting older is slipped in, hinted at between the lines. Though she played it all off, Shuri admits to tuning most of the conversation out and just nodding along with simple verbal agreements. Either way, she gives them both her location, for safety - so that someone knows where she will be, someone can come give her any needed backup, so that someone will know if reports about alphas getting their butts kicked by an omega start flooding in to not worry.

She wants to keep her risks low, as tempting as spending her vacation away on some expensive cruise or fancy hotel is, especially knowing that she won’t be the one footing the bill of anything she orders. But instead, she needs something quieter. Something smaller. More homey and familiar. Something that’s far from people, but close enough that she can order all her needed groceries and items to get them delivered by an omega-safe delivery service.

She doesn’t, however, know exactly why she chooses this location. A cabin. Not anywhere in the mountains, at least. She’s on the coast, within walking distance to the ocean actually, miles away from town but still well within the delivery service range that she needs for anything she may have to get. She’s already placed in her order for her groceries.

It doesn’t even look like a cabin, resembling more of a large lodge with large windows and fancy wooden furniture. It looks modern, untouched in a way, with every knick knack being placed by an interior designer and not an old grandma who clings onto every item that she gets or makes. But the quilts on the couch are soft. The bed is so large that she can spread out and still have more than enough room and when she tosses her luggage on it, they sink lightly into the soft mattress. 

She can see the beach from her window and she watches as the ocean waves hit against the rocks. When she opens it, she can breathe in the salty air, taste it against her tongue. 

It’s not even remotely close to the cabin that holed her up five years ago, but the similarities are still there when she feels the wood against her bare feet. She hears sirens when she closes her eyes, can see his eyes looking back at her when she opens them before she blinks the memories away.

She hates herself for still thinking about that - feels guilty that she still thinks about the man who threatened to put her over his knee. It makes her feel like she didn’t really do anything to save anyone, that she let all those omegas down every time she blinks and sees his eyes and  _ she doesn’t hate it.  _

She knows that she should hate it - _ hate him. _ The rational part of her does. The sane part of her knows that what he did was wrong, that she was right to do everything that they did. When she thinks about all the omegas that they saved, she doesn’t regret anything for a moment. 

She is bitter toward him, yes. She doesn’t like his actions, the people he surrounded himself with. She hates the sheriff that was as good as a brother to him. But she can’t just hate  _ him _ , not full heartedly. Not when she knows that somewhere deep down, he wasn’t the monster that came out when he was arrested. She saw the parts of him that were good, the parts that showed that maybe there would’ve been a chance with him for a real relationship in different circumstances, in a different time, if he were a slightly different man.

That’s the man that she thinks about when she lays out on the bed and a hand drifts to her heat. She’s still fully clothed, but her hand easily slips into the waistband of her leggings. Her fingers trace along her entrance and she closes her eyes.

She thinks about kind, dark eyes and strong warm hands. She thinks of tanned skin dirtied from work and glistening with sweat. Broad shoulders that don’t quite fit in his shirts with toned muscles that lead into a sharp v at his belt line.

About the strong hands that held her waist when he pulled her into his lap, their lips meeting in a heated daze. Kisses that trailed along her body. She free hand squeeze her breast and after sucking on her finger for a moment, she plays with her nipple. The wet sensation is similar, but not the same. It’s enough for now.

_ “You have such beautiful, brown skin that deserves to be loved on.” _

He had rumbled against her skin and his voice was human - husky, deep and it made her inner omega just  _ quiver  _ thinking about it. She thinks about his  _ tongue - warm, long and wet dipping into her.  _

She hates herself for it, but a moan still escapes from her lips as her fingers dip in and out of her heat with the pent up frustration that she’s been bottling in for a good while.

She writhes on the bed, her brows furrowed as her eyes mist over, but she doesn’t think about the guilt that builds up in her gut. She focuses on the rising high of her core. Her fingers aren’t as big as his and she adds two more inside of herself, plunging deep into her core as she closes her eyes just to pretend for a moment. 

She scissors herself some with her fingers, just to stretch out her cunt as her mind drifts from memory to fantasy. Her legs press together tight when, in her mind, the memory doesn’t stop at oral sex. They continue on, drifting into more dangerous territory.

  
She isn’t sure what his cock really looks like, but she thinks about the bulge that she saw that night and gets a good idea exactly how long and thick it is. The idea of it is enough. 

She tells herself that her heat is the only reason that she’s thinking about him like this, even knowing deep down that a part of her has never been able to get him out of her mind even five years later. 

She finishes when she thinks about him shoving his entire shaft into her, taking his knot inside of her as it fills her up. Her hips fall into the mattress and she sinks into it as her chest pounds, rising and falling with frantic breaths Her cheeks are flushed as she sits there for a moment, staring up at the ceiling in a daze that she can’t quite shake away.

She wipes the tears that gathered in the corner of her eyes, the guilt and shame starting to overwhelm her brief euphoria. Even masturbation doesn’t quelch the stress that dives under her skin at what she’s done. What she’s become, or more accurately, what she  _ wants _ to become. 

She takes a cold shower just to wash it all away, changing into a fresh set of clothes just as she can hear knocking at the front door.  _ Her delivery.  _ Some food could do her some good. She’s not above gauging herself on peanut butter to avoid masturbation. Maybe cry over a pint of ice cream as she’ll watch some sappy badly written movie on the overly large TV in the bedroom.

She’s fixing her hair into a tight bun on her way to the door, calling out that she will be there in a moment and hoping that they’ll either hear her and wait, or just leave her delivery by the front door. She slightly hopes for the latter, not quite feeling up for human interaction.

When she gets to the door, she does a quick smell check. Being fresh from the shower, she hopes that the scent of her heat won’t be too noticeable. She had even drowned herself in fresh perfume when she changed. But the delivery service is supposed to be omega-safe. An all omega delivery service by omegas, for omegas, originally even made for situations similar to hers - unclaimed omegas locked away in their houses during their heat or their rut.

She swings open the door without even checking to see who it was - a rookie mistake, she knows, but she’s  _ tired _ and  _ bloody hell, _ she wants some ice cream and chocolate. Anything that’s junky and not good for her. 

But she’s not flooded with bags full of groceries, some gangly teenager working a half-time job, or some half-heartedly company trained greeting. Instead, it’s silent as she stands in the doorway, still and rigid, her fists tightening on the door handle. She blinks, almost wondering if it is a dream or a ghost sent by her subconscious to haunt her. She wonders just how common hallucinations induced by a pent-up heat are.

A man stands in her doorway - a very familiar,  _ very unwelcome _ man. His ruly hair is just the same as it was back then, but when she looks closer she can see soft strands of gray hair that are sprinkled in a dark sea. His eyes are softer, wrinkled at the edges in the way that happens to everyone throughout the years. He still wears jeans, but they’re cleaner. So is his shirt. The muscles are still the same though. Same broad shoulders that are hung over as he shoves his hands into his pockets with uncertainty.

“Hey, doll.”

His voice sends shivers down her spine and it snaps her back to reality, her eyes snapping to his with an untamed fury. Somewhere, a rock settles at the bottom of her stomach as her feet weigh so heavily that they’re planted into the ground

_ “Bucky.” _


	2. Reasoning

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Shuri and Bucky have a little discussion.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Smut toward middle-end.

Shuri doesn’t say anything - still not even fully convinced that this isn’t some odd hallucination, a dream conjured by her heat. She stands in the doorway with tired eyes that look at him almost pleading, begging for him to not really be there, and a frown. Her shoulders are back as she takes up as much of the doorway as she can - she’s on vacation, older than most of the agents and tired, but she’s still an agent, she tries to remind herself of this when his smell hits her nose, hitting her like a bullet as she realizes that this is all becoming too real.

_ Not now.  _ She curses at any and every higher power.  _ Not while I’m in heat.  _ A million questions run through her mind, going over all the common  _ hows  _ and  _ whys  _ as she goes back and forth on shutting the door in his face or punching him. Even as her gut turns with more lewd possibilities, she swallows it down and adjusts her stance, looking at him with as much defiance as she can muster.

To his credit, he doesn’t try to shove his way into the cabin or put his hands on her. He shifts on his feet, avoiding looking her in the eyes as pink dusts his cheeks. A free hand goes over his mouth and nose. With adorned horror, she knows that she’s not the only one whose smelling things. 

“You have ten seconds to tell me why you’re here before I shut this door in your face and contact SHIELD.”

She gives him the benefit of doubt, despite her logical mind pleading her not to. Despite smelling her heat, he has yet to make any move. He hasn’t made any comments about it, is trying to look away from her. The almost awkwardness and politeness to his mannerisms are foreign, not the Bucky she remembers with wild eyes and uncontrolled impulses. It’s not enough for her, she tells herself. It’s not enough to make her think anything too positive, but it is enough to grant him ten seconds to explain himself.

Besides, she’s supposed to be on vacation. If she contacts Fury about this, then he’s likely going to sweep her away to a worse place until her heat’s over. Put her on a longer suspension. Maybe fire her all together. Maybe he’ll finally give Nat the promotion that she needs. Or put what would be Shuri’s salary toward a new jet or toward his own vacation.

All of it - including the man in front of her - are things that, frankly, she doesn’t want to deal with right now. While her heat is making it harder and harder the longer she can smell such a strong alpha - an attractive one, she wants to just go back to bed. Wait for her groceries. Then gorge herself on ice cream and cry at bad movies. Maybe take a long nap that she doesn’t have to set an alarm for after going for a swim at the nearby vacant private beach.

She has a feeling that she’s not going to get the chance to tan as much as she wants to. 

He raises a hand toward her in a peaceful greeting, “I - I didn’t mean to come over uninvited, darling.”

Her eyes meet his evenly. He notices the lack of fire behind her irises as she questions him with venom, “Then why the bloody hell are here?!”

He flinches at the curse that flies from her lips, but doesn’t make any comment - no movement, no threat. Instead, he backs off like a wounded dog, wincing as he rubs at the back of his neck.

“You said that in a different time, different situation that things could’ve been different between us.”

She remembers - those words have haunted her, spinning in her head like a twisted memory, full of venom, shame, and anger.  _ The real shame is that if you had been a decent bloke, one that didn’t have these delusions of control and abuse… I could see us having a shot should you’ve courted me like a real lad.  _ Looking back, a part of her has always regretted saying that - but she could never resist taunting her enemy. She always thought that at some point, it would come back to bite her in the ass.

Well. Consider her ass bitten. Now she has to wait for the poison from whatever snake has slithered in her way now to take over. If she’s lucky, it’ll be a quick death.

“Well, doll, it’s a different time and I’m in a different situation. Cleaned up and what have you, fresh out out of ‘em rehabilitation place that they stuck some of us in. Just… Let me come in, Shuri….  _ Please _ ,  _ darling.  _ I promise I won’t do nothin’.”

His eyes are sincere, big and misty eyed as his voice cracks with his begging. Shuri shifts on her feet, but no matter how much her eyes look him over, she can’t see any sign of him lying. No sign of the aggression and tense muscles that he used to have - no creasing in his forehead that makes him look older or the clenched white knuckles against a wheel.

But she mulls over his words. Rehabilitation sounded familiar. She remembers the way that Fury stormed in as he tells the agents that some of the mountain folk had been deemed possible for rehabilitation by their own psychiatrist. 

No one told her who was cleared and she swallowed her pride as she went through the holding area for the first time with her head held high. She was younger back then. Stronger. She had strolled through their holding cells, ignored the catcalls, curses and spit that was thrown at her. She remembered counting the empty cells - a small number given how many had been contained. 

She had prepared herself for seeing him again at that moment - having words prepared for him if she saw him. She expected to spit venom at him, curse at him for saying he loved her when he was stuck there with the worst of the lot while others had been cleared to go through rehabilitation. She planned on rubbing it in his face a bit. She planned to tell him that he was condemned to hell and she’s the new devil. She expected to see a wild man - the man who ran after her in the house, threatening to bend her over his knee. 

She remembered Bucky being gone when she reached his cell. 

She looks him over - one more time, just to remind herself that this is real. His eyes are softer as he pleads. Kinder. Nicer. It makes her squirm, breathing in deeply through her nose as she debates her decision. Fury would have her head for this - Coulson would too, probably. 

She moves, holding the door open for him to enter and he takes the invitation, nodding his thanks as he takes a step into the doorway. She stops him, her free hand reaching out and hitting him in the chest. She doesn’t look him in the eyes, staring off into the house as she speaks.

“I’m willing to hear you out.” He notices the lack of anger, no gleaming sharp teeth in a predatory smile. Her voice is tired, flat and older. “-But that’s it. Don;t think this is a second chance.”

But she still has her stubbornness - a bit of that resistance that challenges him. Even in her heat, she has that bite to her. That urge to still be in control. He gives her a crooked smile,  _ atta girl. _

* * *

They sit down at the table, distance between them. For a moment, none of them speak. Shuri shuffles in her seat every so often - something he doesn’t point out, fully knowing the reason why. He can smell it from when he saw her, it makes this conversation all the harder in more ways than one.

“I got better,” Bucky finally speaks up with a tired sigh, running his hands over his face as he rests his elbows on the table. 

“Bullshit.”

Shuri tests him - tossing the word around so casually as she sits back, waiting for his response, preparing herself for the worst. Vacation or not, she is an agent. She’s not stupid. She doesn’t plan on believing him point-blank. 

But she wants to. She hates that she wants to. She eyes his lips and broads shoulders, the clean clothes that make him look even nicer. _ Alpha,  _ a part of her praises with yearning. She shifts again, her chest heaving and she strains herself, holding herself back to focus. She stands up to gain height on him, to challenge him, and paces around the kitchen as she listens to pacify her throbbing heat.

He still flinches at her curse. She spots the way his nostrils flare and a part of her hopes that he’s going to do something rash - that he will throw a fit, curse at her, do something to justify throwing him out so that she can have her heat in peace. Just so she can justify, to her inner omega, to not submit to him. She wants him to make it easier to reject him, reject the possibility that he’s tossed into the air.

He runs his fingers through his hair and she hates the way that the sun beams in on his face through the window, creating a halo around him that makes her writhe.

“I got better,” he repeats, if a bit more firmly. “-Not perfect, but better. Good enough to know that all that went down was -”

“-Fucked up,” Shuri offers with a cocked brow.

He still makes a face at her choice of words, but shrugs, agreeing with her meaning. 

“ -  _ Eh,”  _ he waves his hand in the air, “ - I wouldn’t quite use that word, darling, but yeah I guess ya could see it that way….” His voice goes a bit quiet, almost melancholic, as he continues, “‘Suppose ya would.”

His tongue darts out to lick his lip, smacking them. Something about it does something to her. It’s like it’s all that she focuses on, that everything else blurs around her. She finds herself staring at the way he does it, focusing on the wet sound and has to snap herself back to reality.

The fact that he’s admitting that it was fucked up makes her see him in a different light - a more attractive light. She crosses her legs, maintaining the best poker face that she can, but there’s a hungry look forming in her eyes as her morals blur.

He has difficulty finding the right words and makes an offhand comment - an off colored, nervous joke - about going over his allowed ten seconds to explain. But when she just sits, still waiting for him to talk, and doesn’t kick him out or make a call, he continues.

“After you -  _ they _ \- got us, we all were put up in that cell. I thought that maybe you’d come by to see me. The more time I spent there, the more I saw how bad everyone’s bein’. How bad they were. The more I tried to place faces, the more I only remembered people because of what they did to ‘em girls. How many wives that one had. How many kids that one got that he bends over with a belt. How many of ‘em got wives with collars.”

Shuri’s fists clench at the word -  _ collars.  _ Ragged leather scratched by nails around Wanda’s neck. Bruises covered by thin foundation and powder. Electric collar on one of the younger ones that were found. Crying, screaming women in the streets, clinging to each in a desperation of freedom. 

Her heat doesn’t matter for a moment. She feels something crawling under her skin that she can’t reach, a rock forming at the bottom of her gut. She blinks the memories away and she steadies her breathing. 

It takes a moment for Bucky’s words to come to focus, his voice sounding blurry before she can bring herself back from memories.

“I realized that most of the folk there were waiting for the same thing - for their gals to come get them out. Including Paul.  _ Steve _ .”

His chest heaves and she can see the way he’s straining himself, trying to keep his voice even. From rage, confusion, or to keep himself from crying, she’s not sure.

“ - Then I knew you weren’t gonna come,” he finally spoke, “- and I couldn’t blame ya. A part of me wished that we were different from all of ‘em. For a while I thought that we were. That I was good to ya. But I - I wasn’t. I wasn’t good to ya, I wasn’t right. My Ma and Pa may have got together ‘cause everyone was tellin’ ‘em to, but Pa never disciplined Ma. He used to tell me that he never wanted to put out ‘er fire. He was even the first of all of ‘em to get to that rehabilitation place. Got out before I did and Ma greeted him at the door. They even livin’ out in Florida together now.”

Shuri listens. She doesn’t interrupt, doesn’t dispute him. She didn’t see either of his parents when she went to the cells and she doesn’t know them to know if they really were that different from the town. But if his father got out - if his mom really got back together with him too - then they must have had something right. 

Bucky gives a small, almost sad laugh, as if he doesn’t know what else to do.

“-They raised me better than what I was actin’,” Bucky finally says, “-I ain’t never really listened to everyone else - used to skip school, stayed to myself. Used to only hang out with Bruce, Nat and Steve. Paul was around us a lot, ya know? But he was always more of Steve’s friend than ours. Never really said much when we were kids, just kinda floated around us and watched.”

“-I used to think Steve was crazy, always goin’ on about this and that of what to do and how to do it. It ain’t no excuse, but after he came back with a wife and got a kid, I was startin’ to think that maybe he was right. Then I found out even Paul - weird lil’ thing he was when we were kids - got himself a wife. I wasn’t ever gettin’ anywhere with anyone else, courtin’ some church girls, some out of towners, but ain’t nothing was really making anyone stay.”

Bucky’s hand goes to his face, “-I saw you and all of a sudden, I had someone I really wanted to keep. Steve had a wife. It worked for Paul. I just did what worked for all of ‘em.”

Bucky looks up.. The scent of her heat is stronger now. It’s making things even harder between them, harder to focus. He wants to trace the way that her sweat beads down her chest, but he forces himself to look her in the eyes.

“-I’m sorry, Shuri.” Bucky admits, “- I am. I’m sorry that I didn’t report Peggy when I saw her missing person’s poster up in Steve’s office. I’m sorry I ain’t ever say nothin’ to Steve growing up or when we were. Sorry I didn’t report Wanda when Paul told me that he grabbed her off a freeway - and I’m sorry for what each of ya’ll had to go through because ain’t none of us had our heads on the right way. And I’m sorry for what I did to you - Shuri.”

His apology isn’t meaningless. It’s not empty, full of false words. Instead, each word is so heavy with remorse that she can see the way that it weighs down on his shoulders. He looks different - broken. Someone seeking redemption. Someone  _ begging _ her for redemption. 

_ Bollocks, I actually believe the poor bloke.  _

“You don’t have to accept my apology,” he admits, running his fingers through his hair in a nervous tick, “You’re not obliged to. This was - as selfish as it is - for me to get this off my chest. I - I don’t think I could’ve moved on if I didn’t even get the chance to say sorry to ya. To ask -  _ beg _ \- if ya could forgive me. See if what ya said was true that if I was a real gent like I should’ve been then we - we could’ve been somethin’.”

She shouldn’t -  _ bloody hell, she really shouldn’t.  _ She would like to blame it on her heat, the way it’s burning its way through her, turning her blood to fire. But she’s  _ considering  _ it. The logical part of her - the part that  _ did _ already let him touch her, let him lick at her heat like it was water, the part that had even found that ravaged mountain man attractive - tells her that she  _ did  _ say that and even though it wasn’t good, she  _ did _ mean it.

Bucky is right. It is a different time. A different situation. They’re different people now.

“- _ If  _ I said no, what would you do?” Shuri tests him, her voice struggling to stay even as she feels the cramps settling in.

“-Nothin’. I  _ want _ you, Shuri. I won’t lie about that. But I want you  _ willing.  _ I want you to  _ want _ this -  _ want _ me. If it’s not what you want, I’ll go. Never bother ya again, if ya want. If ya want a different thing with us, want us to be friends, or want us to go at whatever pace ya fancy, that’ll be okay with me.”

“-And if I say yes to trying,” Shuri says hesitantly, trying her best to not groan at the way her heat reacts to him, “And I decide to kick you out later, decide to leave - you won’t stop me.”

That’s not a question - not a request. A demand. A statement of truth. They both know that if she really wants to go, that he nor anyone else can stop her. She’s old, but she’s trained. She’s stronger than him. He knows it. He still feels the phantom pains from her knocking him around.

“-I wouldn’t even dream of tryin’, darling,” Bucky confirms. 

Shuri pauses, biting at her bottom lip as she looks at him questionably, but with interest. Interest that perks him up, makes him hopeful.

  
“Whatever pace I want for us,” she asks, the interest piqued.

“However fast or slow ya want to go, sugar.”

Her knees feel weak and it shows. He can see the way she’s starting to wiggle with want, yearning for the chance to be with an alpha during heat. Yearning for  _ him.  _ He shifts in his seat, feeling his jeans starting to strain and restrict as his member stirs, seeing her interest, seeing the way she writhes as she bites at her bottom lip.

He shoots his shot and hopes that he doesn’t miss. He stands up and goes to her, hesitantly and carefully, never moving too fast. He watches the way her muscles tense at his action.

“You’re in pain, sweetheart,” his voice is gentle, soothing and it lulls her as she feels herself relax. “If you want - even if it’s just for a night, I’ll help you.”

She pants, no matter how hard she tries to stop herself. Her body growing weak, wanting to just fall to let him catch her. She can taste the word alpha on her tongue, but she swallows it.

“What I - what if I don’t want your knot,” she challenges, her voice wavering, “What if I just want to use you to pacify this? What if I refuse to let you mark me?”

His jaw locks, tensing at her challenge pierces his heart, but he takes a deep breath. He remembers what his therapist told him. He remembers that she’s her own person - she’s not his, marked or not. If he marks her, then she will always be able to walk out. It’s up to him to do his best to make sure that she doesn’t want to.

“Then I’d be very sad, darling, but I can’t make you do anything you don’t want to do. If you want to use me for tonight, so be it. ‘Least I’d be able to feel you even one more time.”

She ponders, thinking it over, trying to figure out what she wants to do. Well. She  _ knows _ what she  _ wants  _ to do, but she’s trying to not think with the wetness that is beginning to coat her core. She has to be smart. 

Bucky takes another step forward, his hand reaching out to touch her shoulder and his touch  _ burns _ through her skin, but she doesn’t pull away. She leans into the touch with a strained sigh. 

“What if -” he starts, his body positioned behind her. His other hand reaches for her other shoulder and when she doesn’t stop him, he rubs circles along her neck and shoulders. She leans into him and his member twitches at the way that she groans. “- What if we do somethin’ like we did before?”

His voice is a husky whisper in her ear, “What if I pacify your heat without using my knot? What if I take my fingers to pacify ya? Would ya accept that, sweetheart? Would you let me use my tongue in her cunt? Thrust my fingers in you?”

She breathes out her acceptance,  _ “Yes.” _

* * *

The bedroom isn’t too far, not really, but it feels like the trip is long as Shuri drags him by his wrist toward the bed, her voice whining about needing some relief from an alpha. When he figures out where she’s heading, he takes the lead. He comes up behind her and picks her up with a smooth sweeping motion, carrying her in his arms like a new bride.

She smells his musk, writhing in his arms as she leans against his torso. Her arms are trapped to his chest and she clutches at him, desperate for something, begging him to do something.

They make fast work - panting with eagerness, desperation. The heated passion and speed that only comes from years apart - years of denying each other, of thinking of each other. She barely pulls off her shirt before he’s already pulling down her pants and the moment that her back hits the bed, his palms are at her thighs, spreading her legs apart for him.

His mouth is at her cunt immediately, lapping away like a hungry dog. She is warm, wet and welcoming. Her pussy is slick from her ongoing heat as she clutches at his hair with balled fists. Her legs wrap around his head and she tries her best not to squeeze him too tight as her first climax hits her fast and hard from being denied for too long.

She pants and moans as he continues to lick away at her, his tongue dipping deep into her. He continues to work on her, working out her heat with a plan to get as many orgasms as he can from her. He removes one of his hands from her thighs and places it at her cunt. As his tongue swirls circles at her clit, his fingers dip around her entrance and she  _ screams. _

He plunges into her with little mercy when he hears how wet he makes her, how he makes her  _ scream  _ his name. She doesn’t protest, edging him on for more as her cunt continues to take his fingers. He adds another. A third. Dips his tongue in more. Spells the alphabet with the tip of his tongue on her clit.

He loses count of how many times that he makes her orgasm around his fingers, but goes until she asks him to stop, slow down, as she sits there in a sweaty mess, panting for air as her chest heaves.

* * *

A few weeks, maybe a month or so, pushing onto two months. Shuri is not really sure how much time has passed, having someone else to occupy her her time makes it harder to keep track of the calendar. But her heat is always long and drawn out, never lasting the short week or so of others.

She’s been slowly testing Bucky as the days have gone by, opting to keep him around during her heat to satisfy her yearning core and her curiosity. He still doesn’t like any curse that spews from her lips like a casual, well-worn sailor, but he hasn’t threatened to put her over his knee. Hasn’t made so much as a single threat to her.

He still makes offhand comments that are too traditional for her tastes. They butt heads a few times over certain subjects. But not the headbutting of a captor and victim, but the headbutting that occurs when two people are together in one place for a bit too long. Two people that are too stubborn, too prideful for each other. But as her stubbornness begins to die down as her heat makes it hard for her to argue about doing dishes, she finds a somewhat likable peace. She begins to like making dinner, expecting him to eat her for dessert.

She tried to go to the grocery store herself, after deciding that her heat had been quelched enough to go out. He stopped her then, and after a brief misunderstanding, he goes to the store for her as he argues that while he trusts her, he doesn’t trust any wild alpha lurking around the town for unmarked alphas. He promises not to make a habit of it, but insists on at least doing one thing to help her. He even makes dinner that night - one that’s not microwavable. 

But lately, as her heat begins to reach a record high, she finds herself panting for something more. More than a tongue and some fingers. Something that she thinks that she is beginning to feel ready for - something that she feels safer doing with him. Something that she decides - something her heart wants as much as her heat - that she wants to  _ take.  _

_ His knot. _

“I’m scared,” Shuri admits to him as she finds herself sitting on the edge of the bed, panting with want, her heat pounding at her core. “I want this - I want  _ you. Your knot, but -” _

Her words stir something within him, making his member twitch and harden enough that it threatens to peak its way through his boxers. But he sits with her patiently, both of them in nothing but their underwear. It makes him groan and shift, his hand shaking as he places it on her waist. She eyes the tent in his boxers, the tip of his cock just peaking through the fabric in a way that makes her stir.

“All I can offer you is my commitment,” Bucky admits, “I hope that’s enough, but I promise that ya will always be my only. I won’t take any others and I will focus on just taking care of you.”

Shuri shivers, the heat of his palm at her waist making her groan as she feels her core warm. Her heat pulses as she feels that warmth spread through her whole body. His promise secures her, locks in her decision to want him. 

“I yield, Bucky,” she breathes, “I submit to you.  _ Please, alpha.” _

His growl echoes in her ears, shaking her to the core as his grip on her waist tightens. He nips a bit at her ear and she lets out a low groan at the teasing before he starts to lean her back, settling himself on top of her. He makes quick work, frantic to get her out of her underwear before he pulls his cock out from his boxers. She admires it for a moment, in a heat-induced gaze, taking in the full length and girth. It curves a bit, but it’s still easily the biggest one that she has seen.

The tip of his cock is already wet from precum as it prods against her entrance. He slowly goes along her folds and takes in the way that it makes her clutch at the sheets, begging for mercy. He enters her slowly, carefully, letting her get used to each inch before going onto the next until he is completely inserted inside of her wet cunt, leaving him balls deep inside of her. 

Her toes curl as her fists clutch at the sheets. Her legs wrap around his waist, desperate to push him even further inside of her. 

“I knew that you were mine when I first saw you,” he growls, leaning against her chest, his breath hot on her neck. 

He slowly pulls out from her with a long groan before he enters her again, slamming into her as she begs for him to go harder,  _ faster. More.  _ Her heat clenching around him with each thrust of his cock. 

“You’re taking my cock so well, darling,” Bucky growls, his voice deep in her ear, “Like such a good little omega.”

She moans loudly, screaming as his thrusts begin to become more frantic and eager. She takes it all desperately, begging for him to finish inside of her, to fill her up with his thick knot. 

“Say it.” His voice is solid, firm and demanding, deepened with lust. “ _ Say you’re mine. _ ”

“I’m  _ yours,”  _ her voice pleading out, raspy as she gasps for air, her breasts bouncing with each thrust. “ _ I’m yours, please alpha. I’m all yours, I swear!” _

Bucky’s lips reach her neck and despite the burning passion that’s ignited between them, he places gentle kisses as he begins to reach his climax. He can feel himself throb inside of her cunt and the way her walls clench around him as she reaches her high. As his knot finally enters her, he bites down at her neck - hard - as she lets out a scream of burning pleasure.

Her chest heaves for air, her breaths becoming frantic to fill her lungs as she gets used to the sensation of the knot inside of her, filling her as he releases inside of her. She clenches around him, her legs tightening around his back for a moment as she releases one final climax on his cock. Her entrance twitches when he doesn’t remove from her and he coos gently in her ear, praising her for taking him so well.

One of his free hands comb through her hair soothingly as he steals her lips in a gentle kiss before parting, their foreheads gently pressed together.

“Easy, sweetheart,” his soothing voice calms her, as she relaxes around his member, “Easy… It’ll pass, my darling, deep breaths. Once we’re relaxed enough, it’ll pop out, just wait.”

He relaxes onto her chest, careful not to put too much of his weight on her, his eyes locked on hers. Her body is limp underneath him, her legs collapsing back onto the bed as her core pulses and twitches. She can still feel him there - inside of her - but it still doesn’t stop her from closing her, beginning to drift off as exhaustion takes over.

* * *

Her heat passes fast after having his knot. She finds herself starting to leave before she can blink. She can still feel his mark on her neck as she starts to pack her bags, her mind spinning. She can’t even begin to imagine what the others will say when they see it - when they know that she’s claimed now. 

She didn’t think this all the way through - during her heat, it was easy to forget that someday, she would be leaving the cabin. That she would have to go back to work. Then what? Where does that leave them? Do they move in together now - where is he living nowadays anyway? 

_ Oh bollocks, Shuri, you really weren’t thinking were you?  _ She sighs as she shuts her luggage case, leaning against it as her head begins to throb. But she doesn’t regret it. She doesn’t feel that overwhelming shame from having gone through with it. She just feels like her nerves are shot from such a drastic change, knowing that nothing is going to be the same now.

She never was a fan of the unknown.

“I’ve been staying in at Nat’s place since I got out.” Bucky offers, hands shoved deep in his pockets as he leans against the door frame as he eyes her suitcase on the bed, “I’m not too sure where you’ve been stayin’, doll, but I got enough saved up that if you - if you want us to find some place together, we can.”

She’s not sure how she feels about Nat knowing about him being out and she realizes with a brief anger, that Nat had to have been the one to tell him where she was. The anger is short lived, knowing that the outcome is good, but if things had gone differently...

  
“I’m the biggest fan of ya still workin’,” he admits, “But if that’s what you want to do, I’ll find out how to be okay with it. Or you can quit, let me take care of the both of us.”

She can feel her head throbbing as she collapses on the edge of the bed by her suitcase, sitting as she holds her head in her hands. She has to admit that the idea of quitting is appealing. It would give her a shot to relax, a chance to really settle down. She has an alpha now - one that she can have a family with if she wants. She doesn’t have to protect herself right now. 

_ But there’s too much to process. There’s too many things to think about right now. Too many decisions. _

“I- I don’t know, Bucky. I don’t know what I want to do - what I want us to do, just - give me some time, please. I’ll figure it all out after I go back to work for now, alright?”

_ And after I have a conversation with Nat - that little sneaky spider. _

  
  
  
  
  
  
  



	3. Grief

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Shuri and Bucky learn how to life with each other as they handle a hard hurdle.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Trigger warning - miscarriage

Shuri feels different when she returns to work - self conscious of the mark still on her neck and the lingering smell of an alpha that clings to her. Even as she walks, her body is tucked in, smaller, more uncertain than usual. She can feel the eyes that wander to her, the ones that linger on her neck. She spots a few curious looks and open, gaping mouths that have questions on their tongues. She dodges those people as much as she can. She doesn’t even think she could face Wanda - who has grown to be a very liberated omega with a warranted hatred for alphas.

But there is one specific redhead that she  _ does _ need to face. She spots Nat in a nearby empty training space and slips in, immediately taking the chance given to her to speak to Nat in private. Bucky’s words about staying with Nat have lingered with her in a way that she feels she needs to address. 

Nat slows down on the poor punching bag that she’s been using, sweat beading down her forehead as she acknowledges Shuri’s entrance. When Shuri doesn’t make a move to join her in training, instead opting to stand nearby with her arms crossed tightly to her chest, Nat’s lips thin as she realizes just why her friend has joined her. She stops, taking mercy on the swinging bag, and sits down at the nearby bench beside Shuri. 

  
From the corner of her eyes, Nat can see the change in Shuri. She doesn’t meet Nat’s gaze, holding her head down somberly, arms still crossed as she leans against the wall beside the bench. She can spot the dark mark on Shuri’s exposed neck, the way that Shuri tries to tuck her head in a vain attempt to make it less noticable. 

“He visited you, didn’t he,” Nat asks, her voice even as she starts to undo the wrappings on her hands. 

Unless Shuri opts to settle this out in one of the training rings, she figures that she won’t be getting back to practice for now. Despite the way that her heart begins to pound at her chest, Nat’s expressions are neutral and don’t give away to her growing panic. It was one of the first things that she learned from Shuri.

“He did,” Shuri confirms, her voice softer and she looks up toward the ceiling with a tired sigh. “He had a lot to say.”

Nat leans back against the wall, glancing up toward Shuri who has yet to even look at her. She doesn’t blame her - not really. She isn’t even sure that Shuri  _ wants _ to look at her, see her, even talk to her again after this. Talking to Bucky was a risk - a risk that she had to take, knowing in her heart the potential there was for him to become a good man again. Sending him to Shuri, however, was an even bigger risk - a risk that could have a high reward and a high loss potential. If it didn’t go well, she would lose Shuri. Possibly forever. If it did, there is potential for her to gain a sister-in-law of sorts. She still can’t tell which way it went.

“-And,” Nat presses gently, treading through dangerous waters, “Did you listen to what he had to say? Or did you just punch him and call it a night?”

She pauses briefly before continuing, “I wouldn’t blame you for telling him off and calling it… I wouldn’t blame you for doing the same to me either.”

Shuri had thought about it. She thought about storming in, cursing Nat for disclosing her location, for abusing her trust, for putting her in that situation in the first place. She can’t lie, it still hurts thinking about it. Thinking of Nat going behind her back like that. Talking to her cousin is one thing - something that a part of her would understand - but sending him directly to her, with no warning, no guarantee for safety or for it going well. But the angry fire in her chest has dwindled to that of a small, painful spark.

Frankly though, Shuri doesn’t really think that she has the energy in her to be that angry. 

“If it didn’t go so well, I might’ve. But as of right now, he’s in the process of taking some of his bags to my apartment.”

Shuri snorts and glances toward Nat with tired eyes, “But that doesn’t get you off the hook. Nat - you gave my location out, you disclosed private information and you violated my trust by sending him over.”

Nat doesn’t argue, she doesn’t dispute the claims. She agrees with Shuri instead, nodding along solemnly as she prepares herself to face whatever punishment Shuri wants to dish out. It would be completely warranted and to be frank, despite the fact that it went well, she would deserve it. She can’t say anything that would excuse her disclosing Shuri’s location during such a private, intimate, and vulnerable time. Especially without warning.

Shuri slides down, taking a spot beside Nat on the bench. Up close, she looks older than Nat expected. Over the past few years, Nat had noticed the gray hairs that peak out at her hairline from the stress of the job or the creases forming at her eyes, but seeing her now, she looks even more exposed, softer, tired. She looks like a completely different person than the one that saved her. 

“That hurts, you know,” Shuri starts, her voice soft and Nat can see the way that Shuri’s eyes begin to water. “But I’ve thought of you as my closest friend these past years, but you’ve been speaking to Bucky for a good while now. I don’t know if you talked to him while he was still in containment and if you did, what you discussed. So I just need to know one thing, Nat.”

She turns to look at her, meeting her gaze evenly with wide, wet eyes. Shuri absently daps at her eyes with the back of her hand, her throat swelling as she tries to swallow down the onslaught of emotions. 

“Was our friendship part of a scheme to get Bucky and I together? Were you a friend only because you wanted me to trust you - to trust  _ him?” _

The declaration is off-putting, taking Nat off guard enough that she sits there in silence a bit longer than she should have. Out of all the responses she had expected from Shuri - from curses to punches to the silent treatment - having Shuri break down in front of her, accusing her of being  _ that _ manipulative isn’t one of the things that she had prepared for. 

Nat  _ is _ manipulative, she’s woman enough to admit it. She knows how to work people, how to achieve her goals. She knows what people see when they look at her and she uses it to her advantage. It started as a survival method when she was trapped with a man with anger issues that could lash out if she pushed too hard, but adapted into a habit that she’s since molded into one of her biggest assets as an agent.

But manipulating friends? Yes, she actually does that too, but only sometimes and usually accidently on reflex. Always with the little things though. Never for something so big, never so intentionally for one of the one few people that she trusts and holds close to her heart. She never does it to hurt the people she cares about and while she cares about Bucky  _ and _ Shuri, while she does want to see them have a chance together, she would never falsify a friendship with the woman who saved her from that backwater town.

“No,” Nat finally speaks up, her voice wavering with honesty as she wishes that she carried blunts to work. “It was never fake with you Shuri. A few other people, maybe, but you saved me from that town. You saved me  _ and _ Wanda. We wouldn’t be here without you, we wouldn’t be  _ safe _ if it weren’t you. Hell, who knows if we would even still be  _ alive?” _

“-I was your friend, first and his cousin, second.” Nat continues, “And as your friend I hated Bucky for a while too. Used to even hate him for leaving me with Bruce, for never sitting down and actually asking if I was happy. But he  _ is  _ my family and out of all our family, I always saw the most good in him and when he proved that he had the potential to be as good as I thought, to be a better man, I eventually saw the chance for him and you to give it a shot.”   
  


“I wouldn’t have even thought about sending him your way if I didn’t know that you still thought about him,” Nat presses, “I know that you went to the cells after you heard about some of them leaving for rehab. I  _ know _ that you went there looking for him. I saw that look on your face when you went in and the look on your face when you came out. As much as I think that you wanted him to still be there, to validate your hatred for him, you were  _ relieved _ when you saw he wasn’t.”

Shuri can’t deny that, as much as she really wants to. She sighs and leans, resting her head on Nat’s shoulder. Nat leans into the contact, resting her own head against Shuri’s in response. Nat’s hand slithers around Shuri until it reaches her shoulder, rubbing comforting circles on her skin.

“I know the confusion you’re growing through.” Nat quietly admits, “Maybe it’s not exactly the same, but it was definitely similar. Sometimes I think about the  _ what ifs. _ What if I had followed him to college and ignored everyone trying to stop me? What if I just went out to college by myself without him? Or what if we left and never returned to that fucking town? What if I visited him in the cells and he begged for mercy and forgiveness? What if he got out and we started a life together?”

“I go through a lot of  _ what ifs, _ ” Nat continues, “That all got answered when Bruce didn’t pass his psych exam and was labeled ineligible for rehab… But  _ Bucky  _ did pass and it’s time for you to at least get your answer on  _ your  _ what if.”

“I want to,” Shuri confesses, “I want to at least try, see what may happen. I know that I can hold my own if something goes wrong. I know that if he ever does anything shady then I’ll get the pleasure of slamming his jail cell myself. I want to see where this goes, see if I can trust him, and if he’s really changed. But I know that not  _ everyone _ will like my decision.”

_ Everyone _ is vague, but they both know the most worrying prospect that would fit right into that sentence. The one person with the most hatred on alphas, who has worked to become one of the biggest rescue-relief agents for injured and abused omegas and betas.  _ Wanda.  _ Their liberated mutual friend whom they both love, but know her well enough that due to her own trauma and abuse, she would never fully understand the concept of anyone forgiving ant of the men from that town - even if it is Bucky.

“I’ll contain her,” Nat resassures, “I’ll make sure that she doesn’t find anything out by Bucky. In the meantime, you better do something about that mark on your neck if you don’t want an earful from her.”

Shuri’s lips turn into an amused smile, though the idea of Wanda chewing her out for letting an alpha claim her.  _ I can’t imagine what her reaction may be if I showed up to work one day to announce that I’m pregnant.  _ Shuri laughs a bit at the thought, but it dies off as a thread of terror shoots through her.

* * *

It’s been just over two months. A month of moving in, of learning each other in a mundane, normal way that they were robbed of before. A full month of tension while they learned how to compromise, what words are better left unsaid, what fights are better to walk away from, and sometimes, you don’t have to win - you just have to hold the other person close, apologize, and remember to not to do it again.

They’re doing well, Shuri likes to think. Well enough. They both have their moments, but they’re trying. As long as they’re trying - as long as he is putting in as much effort as she is, she will stay. She thinks that’s what love is sometimes - after the excitement dies down, after you settle in, love is a decision you make every time you wake up. It’s not all clouds and warm hearts. A part of love is work. Compromise. Doing something for their benefit instead of your own. Not expecting things in return, except for their own love and warm hands.

But they’re still in that awkward in-between stage of moving in together. The stage where it doesn’t feel like it’s her apartment anymore, but it doesn’t quite feel like its  _ theirs _ either. Her stuff is still plastered everywhere - from the fancy furniture that holds her favorite blanket to security system to make an FBI agent nervous. She still has her favorite stuffed animals on a small shelf in the bedroom. 

But she’s still working on getting used to finding men’s clothes left on the floor by the bed that had been discarded in the middle of a hot night. She used to dust on a regular basis, but she can see streaks on the windowsill from where the blinds have rubbed against the small window ledge. There are times where the grocery list has foods on it that she doesn’t recognize, but she is willing to at least try, but she’s still learning his favorite foods and how to incorporate them into her meal plans while he’s still learning that she prefers the left side of the bed and needs room to stretch out her legs. 

It’s that adjustment, for the both of them, of learning how to live with someone else. She stayed with him in the town, for a while, but that was such a different circumstance that it doesn’t count. They stayed together in the cabin during her heat too - but that was passionate, love making full of a fire that could have burned them.

The fire is out now. They have to get used to the mundane. The everyday. The part that’s left out of every romance movie and is skipped over in every romantic book. The part that is the most real thing that every single person has to understand and go through if they’re in a relationship. 

Just like every single relationship, when sex is involved and children are possible, there tends to be at least pregnancy scare. It depends on who you are, whether you’re the person who cries from happiness from two positive marks or the one who feels their heart rip from their chest as they sit in the bathroom in silence, hovered over the counter as they wait for the results. The one who screams or the one that throws up. The one that has to tell everyone, or the one that doesn’t want to tell  _ anyone. _

Shuri isn’t sure which one she is yet. The idea of being pregnant had always been a somewhat happy idea, but the idea of it and going through it are very different things. She doesn’t know how she feels about the idea of having children right now - she’s still employed, she’s in a somewhat stable but rocky relationship, and there’s a million other things that she didn’t expect to be or go through whenever she would have to pee on a stick.

She can’t even bring herself to move, sitting on the edge of the tub, pants pulled up after taking the test. She counts the seconds, her chest heaving as she can feel her stomach turn. She feels like her heart is being torn apart. Her foot taps against the tile floor impatiently, her hands clasps together under her chin as she rests her elbows on her knees. It takes everything that she has to finally glance at the test results.

_ Positive. _

_Odd. S_ he thought that she would feel happier. Then, without warning, she promptly throws up into the tin.

* * *

Bucky is thrilled when she tells him. He practically swoops her into his arms, grinning ear to ear, and then gently sets her down. When the words start flowing from his mouth, they don’t stop and she can’t bring herself to interrupt him. He doesn’t experience the same nerves that wreck through her veins or the stress that makes her head throb. He immediately starts talking about the possibility of them moving out, buying a house more suited for a family, going to see his folks to tell them the good news, the colors of a nursery.

He doesn’t say anything about the possibility of her not surviving the birth or the medical bills that this all would bring. She’s done the reading and he doesn’t ask her about how she’ll feel about possibly wearing adult diapers after giving birth. What will she do when she passes a blood clot the size of a baseball after passing a baby. The fact that she knows she will not look very pretty in any birthing videos or after-birth pictures. That during pregnancy her joints will swell, her feet will be huge. She’ll look like any moving truck that he wants to rent while not even asking her if she wants to move in the first place. 

He is already talking about sending out cards to announce the pregnancy. He admits that he doesn’t know much about baby showers, but that his mom will and that she will absolutely be  _ thrilled _ about planning it. He asks her if she’d be okay with his mom organizing the party and all she can do is dumbly nod as she sits down at the table, her eyes becoming more and more vacant as he drifts on and  _ not everyone will be alright with them having a child before they’re properly married. _

“- ‘course we could always have a wedding before ya start to show,” Bucky proposes, “And I’ve got all that family wealth to support us. Enough to get a house and get us started. I’ll take care of you and the baby, pay for anything we may need. Maybe spend a bit on that wedding, but I don’t think we’ll be needing any big ol’ honeymoon or grand ol’ party. Not sure about what your work will think about you quitting your job with such a short notice though.”

Her head is spinning. She can already feel her ears ringing, but when he mentions  _ weddings _ and  _ quitting her job, _ she finds her voice. It comes out in a venomous fire that spews at him, spitting at him for giving her knot while knowing that she was in heat.

“ _ Slow down, darling. _ ” Bucky’s brows furrow as his stance becomes stiff, “I think you’re forgetting that  _ someone  _ begged me for my knot. Someone wanted this just as much as I did.”

“-I didn’t want  _ this,” _ Shuri stresses, her words hissing through her teeth, “I’m not ready for a babe and I’m sure not ready for all that nonsense you’re spewing about us moving, having a wedding, buying a house!  _ Quitting my job!” _

Her venom makes him almost take a step back, but he plants his feet firmly on the ground and stands up tall and stiff. Shuri’s eyes are frantic, emotional, and are  _ burning _ with a type of fire that he hasn’t seen from her in a while.

Bucky frowns deeply, “Pa always said that pregnancy makes women emotional, but is this really necessary, darling? We both knew this was going to happen eventually, sugar. You’re  _ claimed,  _ remember?”

Oh she remembers - her neck still itches from where he bit into her. She doesn’t regret that mark, not entirely, but she is regretting doing it so soon. Letting her heat drive her, tossing out logic through the nearest window and throwing herself onto him like a needy bitch.

“We may not be married yet, hell, we may not have really talked about weddings yet and I’ll give you a point for throwing that on you. But kids are bound to happen with you going to heat and me going through a rut. Kids are  _ natural. _ Just like you quitting your job. It’s bound to happen at some point with us settling in together. Having a kid just seems like the perfect reason to finally do it though, don’t you think?”

Shuri’s anger eats away at her skin, her veins warming from her chest and igniting her clenched fists as she resists the urge to act. She used to be so good at hiding it - at acting calm under pressure, at holding in her emotions to spit out witty remarks and coy smiles. But she’s older. Her nerves are worn and stretched out - but her last one has finally snapped and it has acted like a spring, pole vaulting her forward at a momentum that she is struggling to slow down. 

“No, I do  _ not _ bloody think so. You made a promise you better uphold, you will  _ not _ tell me what I will and won’t do. I  _ will not _ quit work and I most certainly will not marry you just because I’m bloody  _ pregnant! _ ”

She wants to spew more curses at him but she bites her tongue and turns, heading out the apartment as she ignores his calls for her to come back. When she comes back, she decides to let him really know just how bad a silent treatment can be.

* * *

She still comes back home after work, makes him dinner and they eat it together in the thinly held together illusion of a family. He asks her how work was, if anything interesting happened, while poking at his plate with a frown. She tells him good and no. For every question he throws at her, she answers him curtly, if at all. 

He tells her that the house needs some more cleaning one night and she dials a service for it with a petty aggression. When she burns his food, he doesn’t make a comment on it and eats it. On the days that she feels too nauseous to eat, he notices and brings her whatever takeout he knows that she likes. When she complains about the smell of pickles, she came out to find all the pickle jars in the trash.

They gradually start to sleep in the same room again. Bucky moves from his place on the couch - the place where she threw his pillow and her least favorite blanket, he had taken the message without complaint. It took a while before she allowed him to have his hand wrap around her waist while they slept.

When he whispers apologies into her ear with a roaming hand, she defies him. When he apologizes over breakfast, she accepts it and for a while, the tension that had build up in their little home had thinned enough to walk through, to speak through, and when it fades away, she can kiss him goodbye when he leaves for work and smile as she packs lunch for her own workday. 

She tells him that she plans on quitting work eventually and he agrees that she should do it when she’s ready. But they started to talk about weddings, gradually, casually. What colors the nursery should be. Possible names. His parents start to send over baby clothes before she’s far along enough to know the gender. Nat even gave her the biggest hug that she’s ever had.

But she hasn’t begun to show yet. Not as much as she thought she would be, but she supposes everyone is different. What is her baby bump could pass off as some extra weight. It hides under flowy shirts, sweats and skirts. She’s not even 20 weeks along and the doctor tells her that her size is normal. A few more weeks and she would be able to feel the baby kick.

But then she spots. Lightly. A few drops that don’t worry her at first - she’s pregnant, a lot of weird things happen during pregnancy. But then the cramps come. Cramps that start to seize her muscles, holding onto her so tight that she feels like she is going to be ripped apart from the inside out. 

She rushes to the restroom and she  _ screams. _

* * *

The doctor’s office is quiet. Deafening. Despite the pristine white walls, Shuri feels  _ dirty. _ Cold. Gross. She’s reminded of cold nights in abandoned buildings. When Fury sent her on missions that were dark and in caves that she had trouble navigating. Missions that sent her home covered in dust, ash, and blood.

It’s that feeling you have in the field. When you know that something bad has happened and you’re waiting for the aftermath. It’s the tension of waiting for the enemy to finally pop out and strike.

But when the enemy finally hits her, it’s a sharp knife that goes right through her heart. It leaves her speechless. Empty. Hurt.  _ Surreal.  _ Like she’s dreaming, that this is a twisted nightmare. A simulation.  _ Alone. _

She barely registers when the doctor is gone, when she’s left alone with Bucky whose hand is so tight on her shoulder that his knuckles are white. She feels like her heart has stopped. She isn’t sure if she even remembers how to breathe. She doesn’t even know that she’s crying until he finally reaches down and wipes them away. Once she realizes it, she can’t stop the flood gates that wash through her. 

“I - I wasn’t -,” Shuri starts, unsure of how to explain the emotions cruising through her, the heartbreak of losing a baby that she knows she wasn’t ready for, but she was trying to get used to. “ - I didn’t want this to happen.”

Bucky knows - she was vocal on not being ready for a baby. He doesn’t think that she wanted  _ any  _ of this to happen, but he knows, deeply, that she wouldn’t stoop this low. That she would never endanger herself or their baby this way. 

No one is ready for a baby, he had realized that when he had to start reading all the parenting books that Nat shoved his way. When he had started to worry about the little things that he missed like baby locks, but then finding something else he missed every time that he thought he had prepared for everything. Then he had started to wonder just how he was supposed to have ‘the talk’ with his son - and he was convinced it would be a boy and he realized that you can’t prepare for everything.

Just like they never prepared for this.

  
  


* * *

Shuri quits work the day after their baby died. She tells Fury that she can’t come in that day or any day. He doesn’t argue and a part of her knows that he already knows everything about what happened. Fury has always had ears everywhere, always knew everything. She receives therapy pamphlets anonymously in the mail and she tells him thank you, but the brochures have started their own stack by the waffle maker.

Bucky tells her that it’s a good thing that she quit - that he is proud of her for wanting to put herself first, for taking some time off to be a good housewife. But the truth is, her quitting is selfish. She couldn’t go in and face everyone, she couldn’t even accept the wounds to heal enough for her to go work after a break. She knows that she couldn’t. She needs some time - time to process, time to grieve, and time to accept things.

She feels awful, her heart feels empty and hollow. She feels old and soft and spends too long in what would have been a nursery and can’t bring herself to clean up the paint cans that they had already opened. Her stomach never returns to the right shape, not in the way that pleases her and when his hand touches her stomach at night, she opts to spend the night on the couch herself. Sometimes she wakes up with her favorite blanket tucked in or she will wake up in the bed alone to find Bucky curled up on the sofa.

She never voices it to Bucky, but she thinks this is her fault. She can tell how heavy the weight on his shoulders are and can’t risk starting another fight when she barely even has the energy to do the everyday things that need to be done. But a part of her feels like maybe if she was happy if she saw the positive sign then it wouldn’t have happened. Maybe instead of fighting with her boyfriend, instead of spewing venom and cursing herself for getting pregnant, she should have rejoiced with him instead.

Bucky, for his part, lives up to his promises of taking care of her. As he works and pays off their rent, bills, and other necessities, he also is careful with her. Less stubborn. He holds her gently at night and whispers, in a half asleep daze, that they will get through this and it will be okay.

Through grieving heartaches, they have to break the news to everyone that they told. They realize this when one of his parents’ gifts arrive and Shuri spends a good twenty minutes weeping over the children's booties and bottles. But telling his parents is the hardest thing that Bucky ever has to do. Shuri can’t even begin to imagine how the conversation goes. When she explains that she didn’t even have a family to tell in the first place, she offers to be the one to break the news to Nat.

Telling Nat is one of the hardest things that Shuri has ever done. She stared down the barrels of shotguns, fought against enemies who wanted to gut her like a fish, and survived more than she probably should have. But telling the woman who can’t have children, the woman who was her best friend, who had been happier about the pregnancy than even she was, and had already dubbed herself an aunt that the child that didn’t even make it to this world yet is gone... Looking that woman in the eyes and telling her that she won’t be aunt - not now at least, maybe not for a while. It was one of the few times that Shuri saw Nat cry and Shuri came home that day with a tear-stained shirt and streaks rolling down her cheeks. 

It’s a slow progress, but each night that Bucky comes home, he finds one more thing changed. The nursery slowly starts to shift into an office as the opened paint cans disappear. Bucky takes it upon himself to paint the walls back to their original color and silently, Shuri comes in and helps. He doesn’t ask her where everything went, he can’t bring himself too. He finds everything from the unopened cradle box to the clothes and bottles all shoved deep into the closet.

Then one night, they finally find their voice and the more that they talk, the more that their hearts mend. 

“We never picked out a name,” Shuri muses quietly, stirring absently at a cup of coffee as she joins him on the couch, “We never found out the gender, but what would you have named them?”

Bucky isn’t sure if there’s a right or wrong answer so he goes for the honest one, carefully telling her that he always felt in his gut that it was going to be a boy. He planned on talking to her about naming him.

“Buchanan,” Shuri muses, repeating the name and mulling it over with a look in her eyes that he can’t quite read. “ _ Buchanan.” _

They do not talk about it again. They don’t have to. Putting a name to their child, to the one that they have been grieving over, a name that was a whisper when they cried, the one that Shuri had dug out from clots of blood to hold until Bucky found her. It puts a name to what they have been through, validating it in a way that they can’t explain. It makes it all real, but in a way that they can grasp.

It fills in a part of the void in their hearts that they were missing. Even though they know that the rest can never be filled in, even if they have another child. Buchanan will always be the slight tear in their lungs from when they wore out their voices through tears and Buchanan will always be that one spot in their hearts.


	4. Bittersweet

_ Present  _

The first thing that Bucky did when he had gotten up was draw the curtains to let the sunlight stream in. He thought that it would help wake them up. Shuri, however, shifts with a happy, content sigh and a smile as she lays on the bed, peacefully soaking up the morning sun as it beats on her skin. 

She can hear Bucky going through the closet for his clothes as he gets ready for the day, a lead that she supposes she has to follow if she wants to be ready for work herself. But she is glad to take her time, closing her eyes and just _ listens _ . She can start to hear the morning birds outside the window - it won’t be too much longer until she’ll be able to spot nests in the trees by their window either. The sun feels comforting, warm. Familiar.

She doesn’t regret quitting SHIELD, not on mornings like this. Not in the mornings where she can breathe and relax. Not when she can feel her body’s softness and easiness. Her joints don’t crack anymore and her muscles are sore. She doesn’t have to worry about fishing out bullets over a gas station sink either. She can still pack a good punch, pregnant or otherwise. 

She doesn’t regret moving out of her apartment either - not when she can feel the sun beat on her face through open windows. She found out that the smell of pine and morning dew is much better than the smell of second smoke on a subway. She likes hearing the birds again, it’s become one of her favorite sounds to hear in the morning. In a few months, she thinks that the sound of a baby’s soft coos will become her favorite thing to hear. But she still has a while to go - for now at least.

“You’re being awfully quiet this morning. You alright, darling?”

Bucky eyes her with a mix of love and concern as he adjusts the hemline of his shirt and pulls up the zipper to his jeans. 

“I’m alright. Just happy, I suppose,” Shuri muses, adjusting herself on the bed to look at him with wide, sparkling eyes. He gives her a smile and presses a quick kiss on her lips before working on pulling on his boots. 

“Our morning session got me running a bit late for work. I can still drop you off at the schoolyard if you hurry, but maybe it’s best for you to take the day off.”

He eyes her belly and her eyes crease with laughter as she starts to stretch to get ready.

“No way are you putting me on bed rest this early. I still have a while to go before I take my maternity leave. I plan on waiting as long as I can, you know.”

A wistful look passes over her eyes, a hand pressing gently to her stomach, “I want to spend as much time as I possibly can with our baby when they’re born. I don’t want to give birth and then just rush off again to work.”

She takes the clothes that Bucky hands her, taking a moment before pulling on the long skirt and loose shirt - something comfortable seems suiting today. Nothing too straining or restricting.

“You don’t have to work after our child is here, darling,” Bucky presses gently as Shuri brushes past him to finish getting ready. She has no plans to go to work with a bedhead and smelling of morning sex. She would’ve preferred a shower, but settles for perfume and a roll of deodorant. 

“I know that I don’t have to,” Shuri retorts, running her hair cream through with a wince. She makes a note to pack her comb and some minor products in her purse today. “But maternity leave will give me plenty of time to hold our baby until they’re old enough for daycare. Then it won’t be too long before they’re in the school with me.”

She stops at that realization, pausing with a strained expression that doesn’t go unnoticed. Bucky reaches out to her and brings her in close to him. A mix of emotions stir in her as she realizes how fast the time will pass with her child and that it will be time that her other child didn’t get a chance to have. 

“I know that we’ll enjoy every moment with them, sweetheart,” Bucky presses a quick kiss to the side of her lips, “Don’t matter how long we get as long as we do our best.”

* * *

Shuri decides that she loves their house. She’s always liked it, of course, having picked it out with Bucky a while ago; it’s the perfect distance from town to give them privacy without being so far that it’s isolating. Bucky had wanted a small town again - she got affirmation from his therapist that it would be okay. He just wanted their child to grow up with mud under their toes that gets washed away by a summer’s creek. To be surrounded by a whole town that becomes their family. 

The idea had been appealing. The prospect of extending their family to a whole town, having a sense of community in a way that’s always been lost to her. She drew the line when Bucky had wanted a cabin, so while wooden panels are under her feet, the house itself is modern, but modest. 

So she has always liked the house, but now she  _ loves it.  _ She decides this when they’re working in the nursery. She decides that the windows let in the sun that lights up the cradle in such a perfect manner. When she looks outside, she can see their large yard stretched out before it. There’s enough space that she can picture it now. A garden that can be trampled by little feet, grass stains from the tumbling first walk and a dog house for their first friend. The limbs of strong trees beckon to be climbed and built on. She wonders if Bucky will struggle with the idea of a tree house.

They’re not the best artists, but they both decided on a sort of farm theme for the nursery. Bucky still makes comments about themes being silly, that a nursery is a nursery, but he is the one who ended up on the idea of a farm theme. She can still see the way that he smiles when he paints the fluffy clouds around the top of the room. She makes busy work of painting yellow sunflowers and tall grass. 

She feels her gut turn every time that a new can of paint is opened and for each paint can that they empty. She can’t quite explain that fear that bubbles in her chest with grief that she had thought that she had moved through, even if she had never forgotten it. She glances to the cradle - the bed that’s been boxed away in a closet for too long. Her heart feels heavy with an odd sense of betrayal. 

“Do - do you think that we’re painting it too early,” Shuri hesitantly asks, her voice shaking, her nerves shot as she tries to focus on her lazy sunflower.

Bucky’s smile is a sad, but understanding one. He steps down from his ladder to get down to her level, he doesn’t comment on the way that she paints over the same spot absently. He knows the look in her eyes - he’s seen in the mirror for a while now since he found out that she was pregnant. 

When he hugs her, pressing a kiss to her cheek, she collapses against him in hiccuping sobs that rock her chest and stain his shirt.

“I think it’s just about the right time, don’t you?”

She heaves, hiccuping before she can catch her breath. She wipes at the tears that stream down her cheeks with the back of her hand. Hesitantly, she nods. As she gains more confidence, her nods become more firm and definite. 

  
“Yes. Yes, it’s  _ time.” _

* * *

Personally, Shuri thought that four months is too early for a baby shower. She thinks that it would at least be best to wait until they can tell the gender of the baby, but the doctor says that it’s just a few weeks shy of being distinct enough to tell; to be honest, she sometimes isn’t sure if she  _ wants _ to know the gender or be surprised. Bucky and her have already decided on names for any possible gender, so it’s not as if they would struggle to think of a name at the moment of delivery.

But still - a  _ baby shower.  _ It wasn’t exactly her choice, having walked in on it after a short school day. She wished that she knew - at the very least, she could have worn something better and maybe had the chance to shower to get the smell of school off of her. Confetti had been tossed, streamers blown at a wide-eyed, confused Shuri in the doorway, the word  _ surprise  _ ringing in her ears as she processed what was going on and eyes the minor decor and the people that were sprinkled through her living room. She has to admit though, after working all day, the snacks lining up a table against the wall look very appetizing; her mouth practically drools at the idea of devouring all of it.

Though there are modest decorations and a small party, Shuri can feel the love that was put into it. She has clearly underrated Nat’s excitement about being an aunt again - Bucky had warned her that Nat may try to do this, but she figured with Nat still working at SHIELD that the odds for her to find the time for it were slim.

“What do you think,” Nat asks, casually, her voice even though her eyes are dancing as she nudges Shuri lightly, “I even got ol’ Buck to stay at his buddies house tonight so we can have this.”

That explains the lack of Bucky. Shuri eyes the rest of the room, eyeing everything closely. The more attention that she pays to each item, the more she can see just how lovely it all looks. She thinks the white flowers and golden streamers are a good color combination given that, so far, the baby has a more neutral gender. She spots a few teachers that she recognizes from school, giving them bright smiles as they beam at her with friendly waves and smiles. She wonders how they got there so fast - but remembers that she didn’t exactly hurry home either, having stopped by Bucky’s auto shop for a visit.

Her eyes, however, fall on a slightly more solemn Wanda whose downcast eyes don’t match the party hat that’s strapped onto her chin. She looks stronger - muscled and lean - but her eyes have that vulnerable gleam to them. Shuri hates that gleam.

Wanda spots Shuri’s glance and gives her a smile that doesn't quite reach her eyes. The tension never leaves her shoulders as she huddles into herself. Most of the teachers don’t even notice her huddled on the couch, either ignoring her, or realizing that when she doesn’t want to really talk, leaving her in her space.

Shuri’s eyes glisten as Nat winces.

“Wanda is still taking in all the news,” Nat comments gently and carefully. “She wants to be happy for you, I know that she does, but all of this is -”

“-It’s a lot for her to take in,” Shuri summarizes, “I’d be surprised if it wasn’t given her history and what happened. Was she mad when you told her?”

“A bit,” Nat leans up against the wall beside Shuri, “I think she was more upset that you didn’t tell her yourself.”

“-I told her about the pregnancy,” Shuri points out, but it’s a weak argument. She winces. “- I told her that I was sorry too.”

Leaving Nat to break the news of her relationship to Bucky was admittedly selfish and cowardly. At the time, however, she knew that Wanda had to know, but she had too much difficulty being the one to do it. Every time that she tried, her mind flashed back to an old West Virginian town that had wrapped its chains around its women and children. She still saw brokenness in Wanda’s eyes, as much as she tried to hide it. A brokenness that Shuri can’t help but feel a bit responsible for - her relationship with Bucky didn’t exactly do anything to help pick up any broken shards. She feels like she broke Wanda’s trust - broke her heart - by being with Bucky. At the time she couldn’t face the consequences for that. She still can’t. 

But she can’t apologize for being with him either - not when she’s happy. Not when she’s pregnant now. 

“She’ll come around in time,” Nat’s voice is soft as they watch Wanda stir, their conversation coming to an end as Wanda makes her way toward them.

Shuri accepts the hug from Wanda, hugging her tightly with a whispered apology that makes Wanda wince. When they pull away, her smile is forced, strained and stretched across her face like a mask.

“I’m going outside for a joint, but please don’t wait on me to enjoy your party. Nat did a great job with the catering and there’s a lot of baby gifts in there just screaming your name.”

As Wanda brushes past them, Shuri can’t help the sinking feeling that she won’t be coming back. By the time that Shuri has eaten half of the snacks herself and the time for presents draws closer, she realizes that she is right.

“Alright, we’ll break into the cake and then tear apart the presents,” one the teacher instructs with a large grin as she carries the cake onto the coffee table, a cake knife shoved in between the cake and her palm.

The cake tastes like vanilla and strawberries. Shuri tries her best to enjoy it, but even as the presents start to get handed to her, the smile on her face is hollow. But at least she can gorge herself on the leftover cake and snakes after everyone’s gone home - deciding that picking up after the party can wait until tomorrow.

* * *

  
  


Shuri huffs and puffs as she struggles to pull up her leggings before sliding them off and grabbing a dress from her closet. Wet hair clings to the back of her neck, but she decides that she’d be better off getting dressed before handling that mess. The weight of her now very-much-pregnant belly is starting to get heavy, weighing her down as she wobbles and sways to get dressed. At five months, her belly is starting to round out and become more noticeable. But she had hoped that she was still small enough to fit into her normal leggings - but alas, even with the stretchy material, it just wasn’t meant to be.

“I thought you wanted to wear your leggings today,” Bucky comments lightly, his eyes dancing in amusement as he places a kiss at her bare shoulder. One hand lightly touches her waist while the other holds up the towel around his own. She spares him a glance, appreciating his fresh out of the shower look and bare chest with a hum.

“Yes, well, unfortunately, I lost that fight.” At her glance, he spots the pair of discarded pants on the floor as she continues, “Besides it’ll be good weather in Florida anyway and I think a dress will make a better impression.”

Bucky starts to pull on his own clothes, stopping after he gets on his pants when he spots the open zipper on her dress. He helps her pull it on, zipping her up and eyeing the way it flatters her pregnant figure. Despite the zipper, the fabric is loose and flowy. He wonders when she will have to wear clothing that supports the weight of her belly.

“My parents will be happy to see ya, leggings, dress or otherwise, sweetheart.” Bucky wraps his arms around her, placing gentle kisses along her neck. “Ya look beautiful in anything, anyhow.”

Shuri laughs, “You flatter. Shoo, I’m going to finish my hair and makeup before I get too winded from changing.”

She’s still laughing as she wobbles her way to the bathroom to fix herself. Bucky watches her in amusement before he finishes getting his clothes together. He puts the discarded leggings up for her, knowing that she would have a difficult time bending down to do so herself. 

* * *

Florida is beautiful, even more so considering her in-laws’ house is situated on their own private beach, leaving it pristine and free of debris. Their house is smaller than what they had in West Virginia - a small detail that Shuri can’t help but make note of. But it is beautiful all the same, rustic and homey with plenty of room for everyone. The trees around it are lush, the water is clear and it looks like something out of a brochure. It takes a moment for Shuri to realize that this is all real - that she is  _ here. _

“I’m surprised that you were allowed on the plane,” Bucky sourly comments as he starts to get out their luggage from their rental. “I thought when ya were pregnant, you couldn’t fly.”

“Not past a certain point, no,” Shuri agrees, “But we have a bit of time left before I get that big. Plenty of time to visit your family and then make it back home.”

“Maybe,” Bucky snorts, “Ma really wants us to stay until the baby is here, but I told her that I’m not sure if we can do that. I don’t think she realizes that all our baby stuff is set up at home.”

Shuri’s laugh lights up her whole face, “Yes, I couldn’t imagine packing all the baby bottles on top of everything else!”

Bucky gets out the last bag of their luggage, shutting the trunk of the car as he thinks about if he should try to take it all in one trip or not. He gets his answer when he spots familiar faces already coming up behind Shuri with large, familiar smiles.

“A grandmother can dream, you know,” his mother playfully scolds as she swoops Shuri in for a large hug, “Look at you, you’re hardly even showing! We got to put more food on you!”

Shuri laughs, returning the hug happily. Bucky’s dad gives her a brief, friendly greeting before giving the women some space to help his son with the luggage. Bucky shares a tight handshake and a brief somewhat hug where they pat each other’s backs before they part. He hasn’t seen his dad since the wedding and while they’ve already touched base on some subjects that needed to be addressed, the slight lingering awkwardness lingers in the gap between them.

“Need a hand?”   
  


Bucky takes up the offer with a large grin, eagerly letting his father take some of the load. “Always, didn’t think that we need so many bags -”

His dad laughs, the tension between them fading with each smile that they give, “-Then there’s still a lot you need to learn about married life, let me tell you - when Ida and I went out on vacation, you would’ve thought that she packed the whole house!”

Ida tsk’s lightly, their teasing easily reaching her ears as she parts from Shuri to wave her finger at her husband, her eyes dancing, “The ability to never forget anything while packing came in handy when we moved, didn’t it, Henry? I may have packed more than necessary, but you bet your butt that I packed anything that we may need.”

Henry laughs, “That it did! I never said that your packing was a bad thing, darling. Fact is, it’s saved my ass more than once because this old fool always forgets at least one thing.”

He gently nudges Shuri, playfully and she bubbles up with laughter as they start their walk toward the house. Despite lugging a majority of the luggage - his dad making an offhand comment about Bucky being young enough to carry the big stuff - Bucky still finds one of his hands free to grasp Shuri’s fingers as they walk. She watches the luggage on his back and under his arm with worry, but he just squeezes her hand and she lets it go.

The inside of their home is even more beautiful - rustic with knick knacks on every shelf, but not as crowded as she remembers their cabin. She only has a vague memory of the things that they had in the cabin, but most of the things throughout the house look new. She doubts that they wanted many memories off too much lingering around. 

The bedroom that they’re given is on the second floor and she likes the view it gives her of the ocean. The stairs give her a bit of a rough time, winding her more than she thinks it should have, but Bucky is quick to put down the luggage at the base of the stairs to sweep her up and carry her the moment that he sees her struggling. He had set her on the bed while he brought up their luggage, his father not too far behind him.

“We use it as a guest bedroom,” Henry explains, “But you kids can use it as long as you want to stay with us.”

He starts to leave, only to stop in the doorway with a pregnant pause, his eyes going soft and dark, “I - I’m sorry for everything that happened back then, miss Shuri, I hope you know that. Even if you can’t forgive me, I hope that you can at least forgive Ida. That young buckster had been single for so long that she had given up the hope for grand kids before ya came into the picture. She’s really looking forward to having a daughter in the house and her heart may be old, but it is very big. She’d do anything for you and any kids that come around.”

Shuri takes a step forward, but anything she could have said dies in her throat. She settles for a smile and a content nod that Henry returns with thanks. She can feel how tense Bucky is beside her, but he gives her a smile.

  
“He is right, you know? Ma’s got a big heart, she’s always tried her best to help everyone.” He swallows thickly, “-Even with ‘em that got busted up by their husband-  _ captives. _ She would always fix ‘em up when she saw ‘em, give him some warm food. She used to tell a few of the boys off if they banged up ‘em girls too bad.”

He takes a deep breath and Shuri sees that he looks like he is either going to collapse or cry. But he stands his ground firmly, hardly looking at her in the eyes as he speaks.

“She hated ol’ Stevie when he started getting interested in girls - she used to joke that any girl of ‘is would have to be held captive. It - looking back, I suppose that joke is in real poor taste, isn’t it?”

Bucky’s lips thin as he smacks them lightly, his tongue darting out nervously. She takes his hand and squeezes it comfortably, giving him a bit of comfort. 

“She got real excited to meet you, ya know? Even if the circumstances weren’t the best, even if she hated that what I was doin’ to get ya, she loved you.” 

Shuri’s mouth runs a bit dry, but Bucky doesn’t give her a moment to say anything.

“-She got therapy too, ya know? Nowadays, I think the both of ‘em are still in some sort of couple’s therapy every so often, just to make sure that they’re doin’ as good as they can be.”

Bucky takes a deep breath, grounding himself to reality as he gives Shuri a quick, fleeting kiss on the lips before declaring that he needs to excuse himself. Shuri doesn’t question why - she doesn’t need to. Sometimes they all need a moment to themselves. 

* * *

  
  


When she wakes up in the middle of the night, she slowly pulls herself up to go look for him. She half expects to find him in the nearby bathroom, maybe sneaking off to the kitchen. Instead, under the low beam of the stairway’s light, Bucky stands half-way down the stairs, leaning against the rail as he stares at the photos that are scattered across the blank space of the wall.

She goes to join him. She’s his wife and she knows the look in his eyes, but even feeling the grief that rolls over him, she looks at the photos adorning the wall and can’t help but find them sweet. The photos have to be one of the few things that his mother did bring from the cabin. She doesn’t spot Steve in any of the photos, deep down she knows why. The photos are all of Bucky. Nat. His mother. His father. 

_ It feels like family.  _ A small smile graced her lips and she glances up when she feels a hand on her shoulder. Bucky’s eyes are distant, almost pained, as he looks over some of the photos. She wonders how much it’s affecting him that he can’t see Steve or anyone else in any of them. It’s debatable if the memories that are coming back from the photos are happy or otherwise. 

She places her hand over his and the contact snaps his attention to her.

“I didn’t have a family you know,” her voice soft, “SHIELD was the closest thing I had to one, but it wasn’t the same. It wasn’t as if I had every holiday with Fury or have photo books of every mission and agent. But when I met Nat - and Wanda - I think I found one. Nat had taken me, I think, Wanda too.”

“-But then you came back,” her grip on him gets tighter for a moment, “You brought your parents with you and now I’m getting my picture taken every second by your mom and your dad keeps insisting that he’s going to teach our baby how to fish the second that they’re old enough.”

Shuri glances back to the photos. She focuses on the awkward prom photos, the matching Christmas sweater holiday frames and the smiles that are always on everyone’s faces.

“-I don’t know what you see when you see these photos,” Shuri continues, “But I can tell you that I see a happy young man with a family who loved him.”

Bucky’s eyes are on the photos, not on her, and his brows are furrowed while his eyes become hooded. “He was young and stupid, too misguided and made too many mistakes that he almost didn’t bounce back from.”

Shuri leans and rests her head on his shoulder as his hand falls to her waist. She hums thoughtfully before she speaks.

“You know, we’ve all made mistakes,” she admits, “We were all young and stupid and misguided at some point. I’ve almost not bounced back from some of my own failings. But the thing is, sometimes kids and teenagers are dicks -”

The curse makes him flinch, despite the mild amusement that it gives him. Shuri’s grin is large and infectious, making his features soften.

“-but what’s so wrong about that? The important thing is, we can have happy memories from that time, while still admitting that we used to be a bad person. We refuse to make excuses for it. Because we all grow up at some point, some later than others, I’ll admit. When we do, we realize that we did bad and didn’t handle things the way that we should’ve. We can either accept that, apologize for it, never do it again, and move on from it, or some people give up and think that that’s all they’re going to be so they don’t ever make an effort to change.”

Shuri’s voice grows softer, her eyes glistening, “Sometimes, if we think we were bad enough, we think that no matter how good we are nowadays that it won’t make up for it. But I think the important thing is to at least try, isn’t that right?”

Bucky places a kiss on her forehead, his hand gripping her waist tightly.

“Yeah, you’re right, sweetheart.”

  
  


* * *

They stayed a bit longer than either of them planned, but their stay was welcomed and enjoyed. Still, if they had hopes of Shuri being able to fly back home while she still could, they eventually did have to hop on the flight back where they went back to their normal schedule, their normal routine.

Then Shuri got bigger - and bigger - and bigger. To the point where she couldn’t put on her own shoes. Stairs were definitely harder and she avoided them when she could since Bucky wasn’t able to carry her as well as he could earlier in her pregnancy. He still did everything he could to help her, going out of his way to take care of everything so she didn’t have to do anything. It was endearing at first, but then she had to snap when he insisted on opening up a carton of milk for her. 

The teachers gave her heartfelt congrats and good luck with large hugs on her last day before her maternity leave officially started. She was about as big as a balloon and she was beginning to really feel like one too.

As time went on into her maternity leave, Shuri wondered just if the baby was ever going to come. Then she tried everything she could that would ‘induce labor.’ Then she begged the higher powers to get it out of her before she exploded. Just when she thought that she couldn’t take it anymore, she felt something flow from her. 

She breathed in relief when the color lacked red tones and barked at Bucky that her time is up - the baby is coming  _ now. _

Most of it is a blur - a painful, loud, screaming blur of white hospital lights and long needles of pain medication. It all happened so fast - thankfully. At least it feels like it went by so fast. It feels like she is in a daze, processing everything that just happened between sharp pains and screams with her legs spread on a hospital bed. She doesn’t process anything the doctors are saying, their words blurring and spinning together as her grip on reality struggles to come back.

Before she knows it, she’s blinking against soft hospital lights as a baby cries in the background. Hearing the cry makes her relieved in more ways than she would ever be able to explain - it makes her slouch against the bed in exhaustion, her body giving up under her. She feels someone grab their hand and with tired eyes, she glances up to see Bucky looking down at her with a happy smile. She can see the hints of tears in the corners of his eyes that he struggles to keep in. Her grip on his hand is weak, but she does her best to give his hand as much of a squeeze as she can. It’s only when he winces does she remember that she spent the whole time in labor squeezing all the life from his hand.

“They said it’s a boy,” Bucky whispers to her as he presses a gentle kiss to her forehead. 

Her chest heaves as she glances around as much as she can before her eyes fall on the nurse cleaning off the blood and icky stuff off of a new babe that wiggles and cries in her grasp. The nurse gives her a soft smile when she hands her new son over to her, carefully and gently, wrapped all nicely in a little blanket. It takes Shuri a moment to adjust herself to hold him and he calms instantly in his mother’s arms, his head resting on her chest with slow, calm breaths.

Under the encouragement of the nurse and with help, Shuri’s swollen breasts are exposed to the cold hospital room air. They tell her, through soft understanding instructions, to simply let her son feed when he shows that he’s ready - that some eat immediately after birth, some take a little more time, but it always helps to encourage it as much as possible. 

She doesn’t even look at her husband, her eyes are too focused on taking in her son’s features - the roundness of his nose and plump cheeks that are flushed with life. She’s not sure when she starts crying - she can start to feel tears just stream down her cheeks - but she reckons that it starts about the same time that his mouth finally finds her nipple and latches on. 

“He’s here, Bucky,” she says softly and she brings her baby close to her chest, “He’s here.”

_ And he’s warm,  _ she sobs. He’s warm and crying and his weight is in her arms, his mouth on her breast. He only feels her skin and he leans into her, he knows that she is his mother just like he will always be hers. He doesn’t know about a lost sibling or past broken grief.  _ He’s here. _ No more worrying over every cramp during pregnancy or waiting for the ball to drop. He is here and she is  _ ready. _

“Do you have a name ready,” one of the nurses finally asked.

Shuri sniffles before she shares a look with Bucky and together, they let the nurse know who just came into the world.

“His name is Steve Buchanan Barnes.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The baby is Bucky's way of breathing new life into the name Steve - to replace bad memories with new, good ones.


End file.
